Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You
by BluEyes
Summary: Rachel didn't get off the plane. And now, three years later, she is coming home. Ross/Rachel
1. Prologue: August 2007

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Prologue: August 2007**

~.~

_I've never written a Ross/Rachel story. Not once in my ten years here. It's been brought to my attention, by reviewers, that I don't so much like Ross. I've been asked to write a Ross/Rachel story many times in the past decade, I've just never felt passionate enough about them as a couple to be able to write them. And…there might be some truth in me not liking Ross as a character, ha._

_But…"Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" by Colin Hay came on when I had my iPod on shuffle while I was running the other day, and this story popped into my head with it, and I just had to write it. It is Ross/Rachel. It is not going to turn into Randler, it is just Ross/Rachel. It's going to be slightly more Rachel-centric, but Ross will be in it, as will the other characters._

_I can't believe I'm actually writing this, haha. Reviews would be very much appreciated for this one since I'm about to head into uncharted territory, since, not only have I never writtedn Ross/Rachel, I've never even read a Ross/Rachel fic. Ever._

_Here we go…._

~.~

Rachel squinted through the rain pelting down on the windshield of her rental car, still in disbelief that she was home for good. This, arriving at the airport to no one, and driving herself to her mom's house in the rain, wasn't exactly the homecoming welcome she had imagined when she found out there was an opening for an international buyer in, of all places, New York City. She had imagined her friends, or her mom, or maybe even Ross (though, after the past few years, most likely not Ross) awaiting her arrival. She imagined hugs and tears.

But, her flight was delayed leaving Paris, meaning she arrived in New York in the middle of the night on a Tuesday. Her middle of the night homecoming meant there had been no one to meet her at baggage claim, no one waiting with a car or a cab. No one was there, holding Emma's hand, waiting for her. There was just her, lugging her suitcases across the airport and renting a Ford Focus to drive out to her mom's house in the middle of the night in.

Emma was at her mom's house, though, and she hadn't seen Emma in three weeks, since she dropped her off with Ross and headed back to Paris to finish out her time there and pack up and move home.

Home.

Paris was not home.

It was beautiful and breathtaking. It was an adventure. It was meeting all kinds of people from all kinds of places and experiencing things she had never imagined. It was Emma being completely fluent in French and Rachel being pretty near fluent. Her position at work had entailed learning as much about business as fashion, and she had proven herself and her worth enough to deserve this promotion only three years later. Well, maybe promotion was the wrong word, since it wasn't that much of a step up, but she had proven herself enough to be able to ask for the transfer. Her three years in Paris were something she could never sum up in words or pictures.

Paris, however, had not once felt like home.

Her apartment there always felt like living in a hotel room, her time, more like a vacation from her real life. She had barely seen her friends and family, though there had been a few trips back and forth. Any kind of relationship she had with Ross was now a complete disaster. Her relationship with Ross aside, she felt bad for keeping Emma away from her father for so long. On nearly a daily basis, Emma asked when she was going to see Daddy again, and though Emma talked to Ross nearly daily and they would have Skype dates on a regular basis, Rachel felt bad Emma couldn't actually see him whenever she wanted to.

Rachel flicked on her turn signal, slowing down as she approached her mother's neighborhood. Maybe arriving home in the middle of the night wasn't such a bad thing. At least she had until morning to feel like she was really back, to process the past few years (and there was quite a bit to process). In the morning, they was going to her new apartment with Emma that Rachel had mostly moved into a couple of weeks earlier when she was back, and her mother had finished up the previous week. There was mediation later that week with Ross, as his insistence, to have an actual custody agreement in writing for Emma, something that broke Rachel's heart because she never thought she and Ross would get to that point. Honestly, she felt like he was doing it, at least a bit, out of spite and to hurt her because she had hurt him.

The rest of her week was packed with much happier things, though. Lunches with Phoebe and Monica, even lunch with her mom and sisters. Dinner at Monica and Chandler's on Saturday night, all six of them (and their families), at Monica's insistence, despite the tension she knew existed between Ross and Rachel. Meeting everyone at her new office (though she didn't officially start until the following week since she took the week off), Emma getting to go on a tour of the school she would be starting kindergarten at in a few weeks.

Pulling into her mother's driveway, Rachel took a deep breath. Packing up her apartment in Paris felt like a final step at the time, as did actually getting on the plane back home. But this, right here, stepping out of the car felt like the final step that ended her journey.

She was not good with endings.

Pulling her keys from the ignition, Rachel grabbed her purse, thankful it had finally stopped raining as she walked around to the trunk and pulled her suitcase out, heading for the front door with her key. She quietly unlocked the door, leaving her suitcase by the door and heading straight towards the room Emma had claimed as her own for her stays at grandma's long ago. Opening the door, she smiled at her daughter's face, illuminated by the pink nightlight in the corner. Tip-toeing across the room, leaving the door open a crack, she leaned down, kissing Emma's forehead, brushing her light brown hair from across her face. Emma stirred but didn't wake, Rachel walking around to the other side of the twin bed, crawling into bed beside her.

"Mommy?" the little girl's voice broke the silent stillness of the house, rolling over in bed to face Rachel.

"Yea, baby," Rachel whispered in reply.

"Are we home forever now?" Emma asked, curling up in her mother's arms.

Rachel smirked at that. Her five-year-old referred to New York, not the place they had been living for the past three years, as home. Probably because Rachel had never stopped referring to New York as "home," and whenever they were going there, she would refer to it as "going home."

That question, though, quelled any doubts Rachel had about this move.

"Yea, Ems, we're home forever now," she whispered, kissing the top of her head as she closed her eyes. "We're home."


	2. Chapter 1: May 2004

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 1: May 2004**

~.~

_Thanks so much for the reviews! No offense is taken to thinking I would never write a Ross and Rachel story, since I never thought I would myself :) And, of course, I plan on having at least a healthy dose of Mondler on the side…_

~.~

Rachel walked slowly onto the plane, biting her bottom lip to hold back tears, eventually finding her seat (again) and collapsing down into it with a sigh.

Now? Ross was going to say all of these things now? **Now**? As she's getting onto a flight to Paris for her dream job? A dream job he had told her to go after? Ross had every chance over the past two years, every chance, and he couldn't have said he loved her at any point before now, before this second, the very last second?

Rachel closed her eyes, trying to get the crushed look on Ross's face out of her mind when she walked away. Closing her eyes was no use; he was still there.

Wiping at the bottom of her eyelids with her thumb, Rachel pulled out her cell phone. She couldn't just leave it at that. She couldn't leave it at him saying he loved her and not saying it back. She couldn't leave it at just walking away from him like that. And though she didn't want to talk to him right now, couldn't deal with talking to him, she did need to say those things. So, she dialed his home number instead of his cell, needing to speak to his answering machine, which would most likely be more understanding than him at the moment.

_It's Ross_, Rachel's chest tightened at the sound of his voice, even on his machine._ Sorry I missed your call. Leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you._

Rachel took a deep breath, his machine beeping. "Ross, hi. It's me. I just got back on the plane. And I just feel awful. That is so not how I wanted things to end with us. It's just that I wasn't expecting to see you, and all of a sudden you're there and saying these things... And... And now I'm just sitting here and thinking of all the stuff I should have said, and I didn't. I mean, I didn't even get to tell you that I love you, too. Because of course I do. I love you. I love you," she repeated, taking a deep shaky breath. "But, I just, this is something I have to do," she choked out slowly, pausing. "I don't want to do this in a message. I don't want to do this over the phone at all. I don't know, maybe you can bring Emma to Paris this weekend instead of my mom and we can talk then," Rachel took a deep, shaky breath. "Your machine's probably about to cut me off. And I need to go…a flight attendant just glared at me as she walked by. I'm sorry, Ross," Rachel added as an afterthought. "I do love you, but…I'm sorry," she repeated, closing her phone.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, tears no longer staying in.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to welcome you aboard flight number 421 to Paris..."

The rest of the announcement was lost on Rachel as she choked back a silent sob. She replayed the past two years with Ross after Emma was born in her head, and then the nine months before that. There had been one million and one moments when Ross could have confessed his love to her, yet he picked now.

Timing was never his (their?) strong suit.

And then Rachel replayed the four years they hadn't been together, a seemingly endless stream of memories in no particular order. Jealousy over him marrying Emily, him saying her name at his wedding to Emily, getting married in Vegas, Ross telling her they were divorced when they weren't. Fighting over whether or not they had been on a break. Fighting over anything and everything, unable to be in the same room together. Their break-up, the fights and jealousy leading up to their break-up, the pro-con list that had almost ended them before they even began.

And then, seeing the video of her and Monica's prom night, Ross dressing up to go with her when she thought her date wasn't coming. Kissing outside Central Perk in the rain. Their first official date.

Rachel wiped the stubborn tears from her cheeks that were escaping from closed eyelids, one moment in particular from her inner montage of the two of them from the past ten years coming to mind: The two of them sitting alone in Monica's living room on one of her first night in The City.

"_You, uh, you probably didn't know this, but back in high school I had, um, a huge crush on you."_

"_I knew."_

"_You did! Oh, I always just figured you thought I was Monica's geeky older brother."_

"_I did."_

"_Oh. Listen, do you think—and try not to let my intense vulnerability become any kind of a factor here—but do you think it would be okay if I asked you out sometime? Maybe?"_

"_Yea, maybe."_

"_Okay. Okay, maybe I will…."_

Rachel opened her eyes, again wiping the tears from her cheeks. She was making the right decision. She was making the right decision. This was the right decision. They had had ten years to get this whole song-and-dance number down, and they had done nothing but fail miserably (excepting making their beautiful daughter whom she couldn't imagine her life without). But, when it came to the two of them being anything more than friends, they failed miserably.

She was making the right decision. Rachel repeated that to herself, needing to believe it, needing not to doubt it.

This was the right decision.

Being selfish and picking her dream job over a man was the right decision.

Being selfish and picking her dream job over Ross was the right decision.

Being selfish and picking her dream job over the father of her child was the right decision.

Wasn't it?

Rachel pressed her head against the seat behind her, again squeezing her eyes shut as she sighed heavily.

It was going to be a very long flight to Paris.


	3. Chapter 2: August 2007

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 2: August 2007**

~.~

_Well, hello, again! Sorry for the delay…Life has been taking up lots of time :) I'm taking anatomy and physiology this summer before starting grad school in the fall, and, let me tell you, I forgot how time-consuming summer classes are… But, starting next week, I will be working less, so I should be able to, depending on time spent studying, update a little more frequently._

_Thanks for the reviews so far, and keep it up, please! As I said, this whole Ross/Rachel thing is new for me :)_

~.~

Rachel rushed up the stairs in front of the courthouse, taking them two-at-a-time in her three-inch heels, hating that she was running ten minutes late. She had been back for only a few days, and it was taking some adjustment to reacquaint herself with exactly how long it took to get from Point A to Point B in Manhattan. That, and Phoebe was watching Emma while Rachel met Ross for mediation, and Phoebe had been running late, making Rachel, in turn, run late.

And Rachel really hated running late.

More so, though, because she knew Ross would have been not only on time, but would have been early, and it would be driving him crazy that she was late. She rushed through the front doors and through security, pausing at the elevators. They were still eight floors up, though, and since she was only going to the third floor, she turned back towards the stairwell she had just passed by.

Ross wouldn't admit it, but he knew the sound of Rachel Green rushing down a hallway in heels. There were many times over the years that sound would have drove him crazy, caused him to look up in anticipation, but today he would not give her the satisfaction.

So, he didn't.

"Hey," Rachel greeted Ross, slightly out of breath, as she took a seat beside him on the bench he was seated on.

"Hey," Ross replied, not so much as glancing up from the paper he was grading. "They're running half an hour late," he pointed at the door.

"Great, so I'm early!" Rachel clapped her hands together.

"Not quite," Ross shook his head, looking up at her.

"Right," Rachel nodded, still smiling, still sure she could make things go back to how they had been three years earlier if she kept ignoring Ross's current demeanor towards her. "So, Emma went on a tour of her new school yesterday and met the Kindergarten teachers," Rachel continued on.

"She told me yesterday when I called," Ross again didn't look up.

"Right," Rachel nodded. "What school did Ben decide on for this fall? That Junior/Senior High combined school, or-"

"You really don't have to do this," Ross finally looked up at Rachel, cutting her off.

Rachel looked at him, slightly confused. "Do what? Make small talk? Communicate? Care about your life?"

Ross looked back down, thinking that through. "Just the first one."

"Well, it's hard not to do that and still do the other two," Rachel huffed slightly, looking down as she played with her nails. "You know," she glanced over at Ross, who was still grading papers, "even with everything we've been through over the years, I never thought we would get to this. I never thought we would end up right here."

Ross paused, still looking down. He nodded slightly. "Yea, well, there have been a lot of things that have happened in the past few years that I never thought would happen, so," he shrugged slightly, leaving it at that.

"Ross-"

"Don't, okay?" he looked up at her. "I don't want to fight anymore. I don't know that I can fight with your anymore."

Rachel nodded, smirking slightly. "At least we're on the same page about one thing…."


	4. Chapter 3: May 2004

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 3: May 2004**

~.~

_I was going to do this scene-by-scene as separate chapters, buuut, seeing as I haven't updated in over a month, I suppose we can squeeze more into each chapter :)_

_Thanks for all of the reviews!_

~.~

Rachel closed her hotel room door slowly, leaving her purse and bag by the door as she looked around the suite she would be staying in until she found a more permanent apartment. There were a few boxes waiting for her that her company had shipped ahead of time, and the rest would have to be arranged after she moved.

Rachel looked around, the surrealness of being in a new place, for a new job, in a new country, making the situation hard to sink in. Well, that, and the jet-lag following an eight-hour flight surely didn't help anything.

Upon landing, Rachel had called her mom, Ross, and Monica to let them know she was there. None of the above answered, but it was Ross's answering machine she feared most of all. He had her new phone number, and she had been hoping for a voicemail in return for the message she left for him earlier, or an email, or…something when she turned her phone on. An acknowledgment. Something to let her know that he was okay, that they were okay, after she left him broken-hearted at the gate.

Nothing.

It pained Rachel that, after all of this time, after all of these years, this was how she and Ross were going to end, on a bitter note and her leaving the country. Not that her relationship with him could ever completely end, since there was Emma, but the air of "what if…" had always surrounded the two of them, and now….

_Ping._

Rachel moved back across the room, having not even made it to the windows to see what kind of view of Paris they held for her for the next few weeks, at the sound of her Blackberry going off.

"I see that I have an email, but how do I see the email," Rachel grumbled at it, not having played around with it enough to have the hang of her new phone yet.

_Rach,_

_As soon as I listened to your message, I almost called you. But I was going to call you upset, and say all of the wrong things, and start a fight that, having slept on it, would have been hard to fix._

_You're probably tired and jet-lagged (maybe sleeping by now?), so I won't make this long. I don't want this to be how this goes. I don't want to end with a fight and an ocean between us. But I don't want to hash this out over the phone, either. If you're serious about this weekend, I'll fly out with Emma in a heartbeat. _

_Sleep on it and let me know._

_Ross_

Rachel closed her eyes, just how tired she was really setting in. She had hardly slept on the plane, and it was the middle of the night still at home. Well, nearly morning. Rachel closed her eyes, too tired to figure out the simple math of the time difference.

A call to Ross could wait until she slept. They were okay, that was all she needed to know. Walking over to the bed, she kicked off her shoes, crawling in, and falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

~.~

Rachel peered anxiously around the crowd of people at the airport, looking for Ross and Emma. Though she was glad she and Ross would be getting to hash things out in person, she was more excited to see Emma. She had never been away from her longer than a night, and the past week had been terrible. At nearly 2, Emma was learning so many new things every day, and the thought of missing so many days' worth of newness made her heart ache.

She tried to ignore the thought in the back of her mind that she was putting Ross through that exact same thing.

"Mama!" Rachel turned around quickly, recognizing Emma's voice, even through the crowd, and heading quickly towards them.

"Emma," Rachel immediately took the little girl form Ross's arms, hugging her and kissing her, before greeting Ross. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied, juggling his duffel bag, Emma's bag, and a car seat.

"Thanks for coming," Rachel added softly.

Ross shrugged. "Yea, well," he trailed off, looking around, before his vision again landed on her. "It's you."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. "Let's go," she continued quietly, holding out her free hand to help him. Ross handed her Emma's bag, and the three made their way out the doors and back to Rachel's hotel.

~.~

"She asleep?" Ross asked, and Rachel nodded, closing the doors to the bedroom portion of the suite, sitting next to him on the couch.

"Tired?" Rachel asked, Ross placing a hand on her knee as she settled in beside him, and he nodded. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, but, in all actuality, was probably not more than two minutes. "Should we talk in the morning, then? Or just do it now?" Rachel asked softly.

Ross removed his hand, reached up to rub his temples. This is what he had been dreading the entire plane ride here, though it was his reason for coming. "Get it over with now?" he suggested, and Rachel nodded.

Rachel looked down at her lap, picking at her fingernails, which were in bad need of a manicure.

"You know, it took…it took a lot of courage for me to come to the airport after you," Ross finally said, when Rachel remained silent. "It took a lot of courage for me to come tell you that I love you."

Rachel looked up. "I know that. Believe me, Ross, I know that," she sighed. "But it also took a lot of courage for me to come here."

"Yea, and an amazing ability to ignore everyone else's feelings," Ross scoffed.

"What?"

"How did you think I would feel if you left, Rach? How did you think I would feel not being able to see you and Emma everyday?"

"Ross, you said you were okay with it!"

"Well, I wasn't okay with it, okay?" Ross stood up, consciously lowering his voice so Emma wouldn't wake up. "I wasn't okay with it at all."

"Then why didn't you say something a couple of weeks ago?"

"Because then I would be the selfish jerk stopping you from getting your dream job."

"As opposed to what, exactly, you were trying to do by coming to the airport?"

"Rach-"

"No, Ross," Rachel stood up, as well. "I'm just saying that you had endless opportunities in the past year, the past few months, past couple of weeks, to tell me how you felt. There may have been some times that I would have listened more than others, but you could have told me at any point in time—_any_ point in time – other than thirty seconds before I'm getting on a plane."

Ross shrugged. "Why did you even want me to come here, again?"

Rachel shook her head. "You know what? You got me."

Ross sighed, sitting back down on the couch. "I came here, because I thought I still had a shot. I thought, for some reason, that this," he motioned between them, "wasn't quite over."

"Ross," Rachel sighed, shaking her head. "We will never be over. We will always be a part of each other's lives. But right now, I'm not coming home, and I know that you're not coming here. I _know_ both of those things. So there is no reason to drag this out and make it harder than it has to be."

Ross looked her in the eye still, shaking his head slightly. "No, Rach. You had no reason to drag me all the way over here, across an ocean, to tell me what I already knew when you walked away from me and got on that plane," he stood up, heading towards the door. "I'm going to see if they have any more open rooms."

"Ross-"

"What, Rach, you want me to pretend that everything's fine?"

Rachel shook her head, tears in her eyes. "No, I want everything to _be_ fine."

Ross shrugged, grabbing his suitcase, still beside the door. "Well, it's not."


	5. Chapter 4: September 2007

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 4: September 2007**

~.~

_Didn't forget about this! Sorry…Ross/Rachel stuff is just so much harder for me to find motivation to write than Randler or Mondler. I'm trying! And I would apologize for length, buuut….I'm making time to write, so…take it at what it's worth. The past and present will eventually catch up to each other, also, so everything will make sense. If that makes sense._

_Thanks for the reviews so far, and keep it up, please!_

~.~

"So, how's Emma liking her new school?" Chandler asked Rachel as they stood on the deck in his and Monica's backyard, watching the kids play down below as Monica finished up dinner.

Rachel laughed. "Well, you are going to appreciate this," she shook her head. "I got a call from her teacher last week, and Emma has basically been being a smart ass…_in French_."

Chandler laughed out loud at that. "Oh, a girl after my own heart."

Rachel nodded. "Yes, apparently her teacher minored in French in college, so when she responded to Emma's quips in French, she cut down a bit, but then she also started speaking to her teacher in French all the time. She said she pulled Emma aside after school one day and told her that during class she really shouldn't speak in another language since the other students can't understand her, but if she wants to chat with her at recess and after school sometimes she could. They also have foreign language classes after school, so I signed her up for French," Rachel laughed. "God, that girl is smarter at 5 than I was at 25."

Chandler laughed at that. "Yes, but with you and Ross as parents, I'm sure she'll have her own set of problems."

"Ha ha," Rachel rolled her eyes at him, watching Emma and Erica trying to go down the slide on the playset, but Jack was blocking their way by attempting to climb up it.

"How's that going, by the way?" Chandler asked, more seriously.

"You haven't asked Ross?" Rachel asked, a bite to the way she said his name.

"Yea, but his response is an incomprehensible jumble of syllables," Chandler laughed, imitating it. "Oh, uh, mmm, ehh."

Rachel laughed at that. "That about sums it up."

"Jack, stop teasing your sister!" Chandler shouted down, Jack looking up at his father before retreating to swing by himself. "Really?" he turned back to Rachel. "Even now that you've moved back here?" Rachel shrugged, Chandler shaking his head. "I was always rooting for you crazy kids."

Rachel laughed. "You and me both," she agreed, heading towards the door. "I'm going to go see if Monica needs help with anything," she added, ending the conversation on that note.

~.~

Rachel rubbed at her temples, Ross fighting her on every point of the custody agreement.

"So, why do you get her on her birthday if otherwise we're doing every other holiday?" he shot at her.

Rachel sighed. "Because I am her mother. I gave birth to her."

"Yea, well, not without me playing a little role in the conception."

"Ugh, Ross," Rachel sighed in exasperation. "Look, this is just on paper. It's not like she probably won't see both of us on pretty much all important days."

"Well, why, on paper, can't it be completely even," Ross crossed his arms. "It's not like it's ever been that way in the past."

"Oh my god, Ross," she shook her head. "You could see her whenever you wanted! Don't act like I've ever kept your daughter away from you!"

"Yea, I could see her whenever I wanted," Ross laughed sharply. "I could see her whenever I wanted, as long as arrangements were made and plane tickets were bought and someone flew back and forth. Yep. I could see her whenever I wanted."

Rachel leaned her elbows against the table in front of her, head in her hands, taking a moment to think. "What do you want me to do, Ross?" she looked up at him. "Are we really going to fight these same fights for the next thirteen years, and then put her between us for them for the foreseeable future after that? Is that what you want?"

Ross looked down at the table, shaking his head. "Of course that's not what I want," he sighed, pushing the paper in front of him away. "But, Rach," he paused, looking up as she met his eye, "what part of this is what either of us ever wanted?"

Rachel shook her head, glad they were in agreement on that point. "Absolutely nothing."


	6. Chapter 5: Winter 2005

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 5: Winter 2005**

~.~

"So, who's Patrick?" Ross asked Rachel, who had come over to his apartment to drop off Emma's stuffed bear that had been forgotten in the bustle of getting Emma over to Ross's straight from the airport earlier in the day.

"What?" Rachel asked, handing him Emma's bear.

"Who's Patrick?"

"Ross, I'm not playing this game with you," Rachel replied, sensing his tone (and not liking it).

"Come on. Emma keeps talking about him. I just want to know who this guy who gets to see my daughter more than I do is."

Rachel tried to keep her cool at that, not wanting to start a fight (though it felt as though Ross was pushing her buttons on purpose).

"Well, Emma obviously already told you all about him, and three-year-olds are notoriously honest, so ask her whatever you want to know," she replied, hand still on the doorknob.

"Mature, Rach."

"What? He's my boyfriend. Is that what you want to hear?"

"How long have you been seeing him?"

"Ross, how is that any of your business?" Rachel crossed her arms.

"Because you live with _my_ daughter, across the ocean, in another country, so your life affects her," Ross explained. "_That's_ how it's my business."

Rachel dropped her arms, blowing her hair from her face. "Nine months," she replied.

"Is he French?"

Rachel laughed. "No, he's American. He moved to Paris with his ex-wife. I met him at work. He makes me happy, and he's great with Emma. Anything else?" she asked, clearly irritated by the conversation.

Ross shook his head. "No," he sighed. "I guess that about covers it all."

~.~

Rachel sat in Monica and Chandler's living room, studying the wall of pictures above the fireplace. They were all black and white, a few of little Jack and Ericka, a family picture of the four of them, Monica and Chandler on their wedding day, an old one of the six of them…. Looking around the room, Rachel was hit with a sudden wave of a completely unexpected feeling, one she had been suppressing for a year and a half: homesickness.

Taking a sip of the wine in her hand, she attempted to blink back tears, turning her attention to the Christmas tree in the corner, hoping Monica would take her time putting the babies to bed. Although she had only been here a few times, somehow, just like that little purple apartment, this place already felt like home.

It felt like home more than the apartment she'd been living in for a little over a year felt like home.

"Sorry, Rach, Jack was being fussy," Monica explained as she reentered the room, walking over to where Rachel was seated on the couch.

"It's okay," Rachel replied quickly, trying to be nonchalant about wiping her tears away.

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Monica asked, reaching out and touching her arm.

Rachel shook her head, tears still in her eyes. "It's-it's nothing."

"Rach," Monica laughed, "what is it?"

Rachel shook her head. "It's stupid," she again wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, trying not to let her mascara run. "I just-I'm really homesick."

"Oh, honey," Monica hugged her.

"Paris isn't permanent," Rachel whispered.

"What?" Monica asked, pulling back.

"Paris isn't permanent," she shook her head. "I think I've known that all along," she continued.

"What about your job?"

"I love my job! I do, I really, really, do," she sighed.

"And Patrick?"

"I love him, too. I just," Rachel sighed. "I don't know how to explain it. It's like-it's like the past year and a half have been a vacation. A great, great vacation, but now…I'm kind of ready to come home."

Monica remained silent for a moment, reaching for her own wine glass. "Have you talked to Ross about it?"

Rachel shook her head slowly from side to side. "I don't want to get his hopes up."

"So, you're not positive, then?" Monica asked tentatively, not wanting to get her hopes up, either.

"Oh, no," Rachel reassured her, staring into the wine glass in front of her, finally admitting what she'd been holding in for a year now. "I'm sure. It's just a matter of when."

~.~

_Being that this is the ONLY R/R fic I have ever and (most likely) will ever write, I really am going to finish it, I swear. I've had a steady stream of alert and favorite adds for this one, but…it's kind of lacking in the reviews, and seeing as this isn't my pairing of choice, it makes it hard(er) to write. I'm just throwing that out there. I don't like to beg for reviews, because I know I'm (overall) lucky in that department, but seeing as this isn't either of my pairings of choice in this fandom (and so many people have a story alert for this story), reviews would be VERY much appreciated. *steps down from soapbox* The next update will be quicker, promise! :)_


	7. Chapter 6: March 2006

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 6: March 2006**

~.~

_Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! Another short update. I would apologize, but…each chapter is distinctly separate, and longer chapters just don't make sense for this one, so…yea. I have most of the next chapter done, as well, so the next update shouldn't take very long. We're getting there for this one, promise! _

~.~

Rachel glanced down at her cell phone as she hurried to her next meeting, feeling it vibrate. She frowned at a text from Chandler, reading simply, "Sorry, sorry, sorry." Before she had the chance to respond, though, her phone started ringing: Ross. Rachel groaned, thinking about silencing her phone, silencing him for the moment, calling him back later about whatever he was most likely upset about.

Sighing, she picked up, sliding down an empty hallway for some privacy. She did have a few minutes before her meeting started, anyway. "Hello."

"Have anything to tell me, Rach?"

Rachel closed her eyes. Why would he be upset? What would Chandler have known that would cause him to be upset? _Oh, think, Rach, think_.

"I'll give you a hint."

"That would be helpful."

"Are you really moving back?"

"Ross…" Rachel trailed off. She still hadn't talked to him about it. And Monica had obviously told Chandler, and….

"No, it's fine," Ross huffed over the phone. "Tell Monica and Chandler before me. Makes a lot of sense."

"Ross, nothing is finalized yet. I'm still waiting on a transfer. I haven't even-"

"Shouldn't I be the first person you tell?"

"Ross, I didn't want to get your hopes up before everything was finalized. I'm not sure when-"

"But it's when, not if?"

"Yes, it's a matter of when and not if."

"Then I deserve to know, Rachel!" Ross shouted at her from across an ocean.

"I'm sorry, Ross-"

"Why wouldn't I be the first person you told?"

"Ross-"

"No, you know what, _Rach_?" he asked, bitter emphasis on her name. "I'm tired of this game. I'm tired of this selfish little Rachel world. I'm tired of everything revolving around you, and my feelings not being taken into consideration. I'm sick of everything happening when you feel like it happening-"

"Fuck you, Ross! If I were a man, if this were the other way around, no one would blink an eye at it."

"Rachel-"

"No, let me finish!" Rachel snapped. "I haven't done a damn thing the past two years without taking you and Emma into consideration. You could have told me _before _I got to the airport, how you felt about me, about this, and you didn't. And me taking this job and moving to Paris? How is self-actualizing selfish? How is doing the best thing for me selfish? Did you want me to stay in New York and regret not doing this, Ross? Would me staying there and regretting not doing it forever be what was best for me, best for my daughter?" Rachel continued, barely even taking a breath. "Is that what you wanted? And what, now I'm moving back and you're pissed about that? Because I didn't _tell you first_? Take a second and think about what you're saying and how incredibly immature it all sounds. And when you've realized how much of a child you're being, go ahead and give me a call back."

"Screw you!"

"Right back at you."

"Have your mom come get Emma next weekend. I really don't feel like seeing you anytime soon."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Rachel sighed, looking down at her phone, realizing he had hung up.

Fine….


	8. Chapter 7: Summer 2006

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 7: Summer 2006**

~.~

_I **will** finish this. Eventually. Promise. :)_

_Thank you all, very much, for the reviews. Always, always appreciated. :)  
><em>

~.~

Rachel stood patiently in front of Ross's door after knocking, waiting for him to answer. Glancing around the hallway, she smiled slightly; there was something comforting about him still living in the same apartment. There was something nostalgic about the fact that, if the curtains were open, you could even see into Monica's former apartment across the street. Although she hadn't lived there in years, in either apartment, it felt comfortingly like coming home.

"Hi!" Rachel was greeted not by Ross, but by a tall woman with short, blonde hair, who she assumed was Michelle. Although Michelle and Ross had been together for some time now, and she had heard all about her from Emma, it had been a while since Rachel's last trip to New York, their last fight making her want to remain an ocean away from him.

"Hi," Rachel forced a friendly smile. "You must be Michelle?"

"Yes! It is so nice to finally meet you," she smiled warmly, letting Rachel in. "I can't believe I haven't met you yet!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Rachel apologized. "This whole situation is just," Rachel waved her arms in the air.

"It is what it is," Michelle shrugged. "Do you want a drink or anything? Emma's playing with my son, Jackson, and Ross should be home any minute if you want to wait for him."

Rachel thought that through, not in the mood to deal with Ross at the present moment. "You know, I'm sorry, we're actually meeting my mom for dinner, so we really should get going."

"Oh, no, it's fine," Michelle reassured her. "I'll go grab Emma."

"Thanks," Rachel smiled, Michelle disappearing and reappearing moments later.

"They're just cleaning up," Michelle explained.

"Good," Rachel nodded, sitting awkwardly down on the couch, Michelle sitting on the opposite end.

"You know, I really am glad I finally get to meet you," Michelle began slowly, "because, god, don't take this the wrong way, but…even from another country, I am completely intimidated by you."

Rachel smiled, laughing slightly, this conversation seeming familiar. "Really? Why?"

Michelle shrugged. "You're just," she motioned to Rachel from head to toe, "you're so amazing and accomplished, and you live in Paris, and you're Emma's mom, and you've known Ross since you were kids, and you're-you're his ex-wife. And that's," she nodded her head, "that's a tough act to follow."

Rachel smiled, feeling her face flush. "Oh, I'm not that great."

Michelle smiled. "And I know you guys are having a hard time with, well, each other lately, but…he does still think very highly of you. And you both somehow manage to make this whole situation work, so…" Michelle trailed off with a shrug.

Rachel smiled, struck by the fact that the sentiment was eerily similar to a conversation she had had with Ross's girlfriend Julie over a decade earlier, one that, for some reason or another, had remained ingrained in her memory.

"_I know, I probably shouldn't even tell you this, but I'm pretty much totally intimidated by you.…Ross is so crazy about you, and I really wanted you to like me, and, it's probably me being totally paranoid, but I kinda got the feeling that maybe you don't."_

"_Well, you're not totally paranoid…."_

Perhaps the memory so vividly remained because she held tightly onto the memories of her and Ross as friends before they were ever together, because, although they worked back up to being friends after they dated and broke up, the friendship was just never quite the same after.

Rachel shook her head, finally shrugging. "What other choice do we have but to make it work?"

"You'd be surprised," Michelle raised her eyebrows. "My ex, for one, wasn't exactly-"

"Mommy!" Emma ran into the room, throwing herself onto her mother's lap. "We're going to see Grandma now?"

Rachel kissed her daughter on top of the head, squeezing the little girl tightly. "Yes. We're going to see Grandma now!" Rachel replied, standing up with Emma in her arms.

"It was really nice to meet you," Michelle smiled, and Rachel couldn't help but return the smile it was so genuine and warm. Ross did well. Ross did really well.

"You, too," Rachel nodded as she headed for the door.

"I'm glad we got to chat a little!"

"Me, too," Rachel replied honestly as she opened the door. "See you later."

"Bye!" Emma waved.

"Bye, guys," Michelle replied, closing the door behind them.

"We should tell Daddy that Michelle's a keeper," Rachel thought out loud to Emma before realizing her mistake, given that four-year-olds have no filter.

"Michelle's a keeper," Emma repeated with a nod, having no idea what she was saying as she parroted her mother.

Rachel laughed slightly. "Ready to go see Grandma and then go to Aunt Monica and Uncle Chandler's?"

"And have cookies?" Emma asked.

Rachel smiled, knowingly. "I bet, if you asked nicely, you could probably talk Aunt Monica into making cookies."

"Chocolate chip with sprinkles?" Emma asked, wiggling down from her mother's arms as they approached the elevator.

Rachel shrugged. "You'll have to ask her when we get there."

"Mommy?"

"Yea?"

"Why don't you and Daddy live together?"

Rachel closed her eyes as the elevator reached their floor with a ding. With a sigh, Rachel stepped onto the elevator with Emma, knowing there was no use avoiding such a question. Glancing apologetically at the unknowing stranger in the corner, a woman around her own age, Rachel turned her attention back to her daughter.

"Well, Em, not all Mommy and Daddies live together, because not all families are the same. Ben doesn't live with Daddy, either, and he has two Mommies and one Daddy."

"But why do we live _so far_ _away_ from Daddy?"

Rachel bit her lip. Oh, the heart-breaking honesty. "You know what, Emma?"

"What?"

"Do you know how long a year is?" Rachel asked, knowing that, although plans were in place for her transfer and move home, it was not yet set in stone, but telling her daughter would mean that there was no going back on it.

"Like a birthday?"

Rachel smiled. "Exactly like a birthday. Next year, after your birthday, we won't live so far away from Daddy. We're moving back here, and we'll live close to Daddy."

Emma thought that through. "But where will I go to school and see my friends?" she asked, not quite understanding.

"You'll go to a new school here with lots of new friends."

Emma again silently thought that through. "Mom?"

"Hm?" Rachel replied as they stepped off the elevator on the ground floor.

"Can we invite Michelle to my birthday next year?"

Rachel almost laughed. "Sure, sweetie."

"Mommy?"

"Yea?"

"If Daddy and Michelle get married, does that mean I'll have two Mommies like Ben?"

Rachel bit her lip, heart stopping at that. There was something deep inside of her that ached at the thought of Ross getting married. They had both moved on, and yet…something still ached inside of her like it had when she had found out he was marrying Emily. Or any time it had gotten serious with any of his girlfriends. She was happy for him, genuinely wanted him to be happy, and yet-

"Mommy?"

"It's-yea, something like that," Rachel answered quickly.

"Mommy?"

Rachel took a deep breath, her patience for this game waning. "Yes, Em?"

"Can I get a puppy?"

Rachel laughed out loud at that one, shaking her head as she took the little girl's hand, heading out the front door of the building. "You know what, Emma, why don't you ask your dad that one…."


	9. Chapter 8: Loose Ends

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 8: Loose Ends**

~.~

_Again, thanks so much for the reviews! Sorry if the timeline is confusing; I like things chronologically out of order. :) Also, we are ALMOST to the end here. One or two more parts, depending on what I decide. Hopefully, I will be updating again next week. I make no promises, but, hopefully. :)_

**~.~January 2006~.~**

Rachel drummed her fingers nervously across the tablecloth of the table in front of her at the French café she and Patrick had been having lunch at on a regular basis for nearly a year now, since before they were a couple and had been only colleagues. She stared at the menu, though she'd memorized everything she liked long ago, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Rach?"

Rachel looked up as he said her name. Things had been…tense, almost since her return from New York over the holidays. Tense may not even be the word to describe it…strained. The air between them, their interactions, everything felt strained.

Patrick wasn't so dense as not to realize why.

"Are you moving back to New York?" he asked slowly.

Rachel bit her lip in response, eyes welling up with tears as she studied the man across from her. He was, if she could be completely honest with herself, exactly the kind of man she had always pictured herself with. He was pretty. Handsome. Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, olive-toned skin…they looked very pretty together. And there was such a connection between them. They worked well together, _got_ each other, in that inexplicable way.

She didn't want this to end. Oh, she didn't want this to end. But she knew, before she'd made up her mind, let her heart make up her mind, that he had no desire to move back to The States. He'd said how much he loved Paris, how he had nothing to go back to. He had little family, and wasn't close to them, his friends had been a commonality with his ex-wife, and after she'd gone to Paris with him, and then they'd divorced, had all silently sided with her. Here, he had friends. Here, he had a life.

"Rachel?"

Rachel nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as she attempted to blink her tears away. Patrick looked down momentarily in response to that, also taking a deep breath, before looking back up.

"I think-I think I have to," she whispered. "This isn't-this isn't home for me," she continued on quietly. "And I-I need to go home."

Patrick nodded, pursing his lips as he leaned forward, elbows against the table, using the moment of silence to gather his thoughts. "You know that…this is home for me, right?"

Rachel gave in, reaching up to wipe at her tears, swallowing the sob she felt coming. Nodding, she choked out, "I know."

**~.~January 2007~.~**

"What's in this box?" Michelle called out from the hall closet, pulling a box down from the top shelf.

"Which box?" Ross asked, coming from the kitchen. Michelle and her son Jackson were in the process of moving in, and Ross was clearing out some old odds and ends to make room. They knew the apartment was small, especially since in only a few months Emma would be back in New York, and that meant she would be staying more often, but she and Jackson, who were the same age, had absolutely no objection to sharing a room, actually thinking it was a pretty cool idea (for the time being, anyway).

When he reached the closet, Michelle had already removed the lid, revealing what was inside of the box. The top picture was an old one of him and Rachel, smiling, laughing, looking young and happy, and the rest appeared to be various knick-knacks such as a worn out tshirt and ticket stubs that must have been of sentimental value, because nothing in it appeared to be worth keeping. Michelle nodded, understanding (and not wanting to closely examine the rest), before replacing the lid, placing it back on the top shelf, pushed to the back, out of reach.

It was his Rachel Box.

~.~**July 2007**~.~

Rachel opened one of Emma's dresser drawers, continuing to pack, wondering how on earth she and Emma had accumulated so much in such a small space in only three years.

When Rachel had started making arrangements for the move, she had expected to feel sad, expected the stinging feeling that often accompanies endings. When it hadn't arrived, she had expected it to arrive once she started packing. Now, though, the majority of her apartment was packed, and after she was done packing her daughter's clothes, Emma would be ready to go back for good the next week, Rachel returning to finish up a few odds and ends at work, before she would be leaving for good, as well, and yet…no feeling of sadness. There were people she should miss, routines she would soon be without, and yet, the feeling of going home, for more than a week, far outweighed everything else.

The hostility from Ross had remained since the previous Spring when he found out from Chandler, and not her, that she was coming back to New York (but she guessed it had more to do with her leaving three years prior), and he had arranged for mediation to get a custody agreement on paper once she moved back. This saddened Rachel inexplicably, because she always felt, through everything, that she and Ross had been pretty good at the whole co-parenting thing. She thought they had always been able to be friends, always been able to make it work.

And, maybe, on some level, she was still mourning the ending of a relationship that had never proved to work out, though she still had yet to let go of.

"_I've got to say, I know I divorce a lot of women—never thought I would be divorcing you."_

"_I know. I always thought if you and I got married, it would be the one that stuck…."_

Rachel sat back on her heels with a sigh, looking at Emma's half-packed suitcase, placing the picture that had been on top of Emma's dresser of her, Ross, and Emma from Emma's first birthday between stacks of clothing.

"_It's always been you, Rach."_

Rachel sighed, hating that going back to New York was making her so nostalgic over something (or, rather, someone) she had sworn she was over years ago.

~.~**November 2007**~.~

"Uncle Joey!" Emma was the first one to spot him, coming in the front door at Chandler and Monica's for Thanksgiving, and she took off running for him, Jack, Erica, and Phoebe and Mike's twin daughters who were less than a year younger than the other twins, Lily and Rose, not far behind.

Rachel stood back, watching Joey greet the kids, who then ran back towards the living room to play, before walking over to greet him, as well.

"Hey, Joe," she hugged him tightly.

"Hey, Rach," he squeezed her in return, having not seen her since the previous year at Thanksgiving. "Good to be home?"

"So good to be home," Rachel nodded fiercely.

"Ross is right behind me," Joey nodded behind him.

"Kind figured, since he picked you up from the airport," she smiled. "How's our big movie star out in LA?"

Joey laughed. "Oh, I'm not a movie _star_."

Rachel smiled. "You're not doing half-bad, though." Joey grinned, glancing around. "Go say hi to Chandler," Rachel pointed to the kitchen, where everyone else was gathered, Joey immediately taking off in that direction, leaving his suitcase by the door.

"Hey." Rachel looked back towards the door at the sound of Ross's soft greeting.

"Hey," she replied, just as quietly, turning quickly to return to the kitchen.

"Rach," he reached out for her arm. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" he asked softly, motioning back towards the door.

Rachel looked at him curiously before nodding, following him back out the door he just came in through, letting it slam shut behind them.

~.~

_This is the part where I tell you to go listen to "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" by Colin Hay, the beautiful song that inspired the fic, and then I beg for reviews, because reviews make me happy. :)_


	10. Chapter 9: November 2007

**Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You**

**Chapter 9: November 2007**

~.~

_Just throwing it out there, one last time, that you should totally listen to the song while you read this… :)_

~.~

Rachel followed Ross out the front door, sitting down beside him on the front steps. Ross remained silent, looking down at the ground. Rachel wrapped her arms around herself, the feeling of winter starting to creep into the late autumn air. She looked over at Ross, studying his face, having learned to read all of his looks years and years ago.

"Where's Michelle?" Rachel finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Picking up Jackson from his dad's," Ross replied. "They'll be here later."

"So, you-you wanted to talk about something?" Rachel tried again after Ross slipped back into silence.

Ross nodded, still staring straight ahead for a moment, before turning toward her. "I-uh-I," he paused, laughing at himself as he shook his head. "I bought a ring," he finally said quietly.

"Oh," Rachel said, for some reason caught off guard by that. "Oh."

"Actually, I bought it about seven months ago."

"Oh?"

"But the thing is," Ross turned towards here. "The thing is, if that-if that happens…" he trailed off, again shaking his head. "This sounds so stupid, because it seems like all we do is fight lately, but," he took a deep breath, looking her in the eyes, "the thing is, if that happens…I feel like I'm taking us off the table for good."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat at that, though she wouldn't have known how to reply had she been able to speak.

"And, I know this sounds ridiculous, because we haven't been 'us' for years, but, god, I feel like-I feel like…I feel like, no matter how many year or-or miles or fights are between us, I feel like…I'm just never going to get over you, Rachel," he continued on softly.

"Ross," Rachel replied, softly through teary eyes. "Ross," she repeated, taking a deep breath in and blowing it out slowly. "I know," she nodded, touching his cheek with her fingertips. "Believe me, I know," she laughed slightly, dropping her hand. "But I think-I think…I think we-us, I think we've been off the table for a while now."

"Rachel…."

Rachel shook her head. "And I know-I know that I will never get over you, and there will always be a part of me that loves you so, so much, but, Ross," she paused, holding eye contact, "we've been at this for, god, what, thirteen, fourteen years now? I think-I think it might be time to take us off the table."

Ross took a deep, shaky breath. "I love Michelle, don't get me wrong. And it works with her. And I love my life with her. But…we're _Ross and Rachel_."

Rachel bit her lip at that, pausing for a moment, staring straight ahead as Ross laced his fingers between hers. "I will always love you, you know that," she finally began quietly, giving his hand a squeeze. "You will always be one of the most important people in my life, and you will always be the father of my child, and-and I will always love you. But, Ross," she shook her head. "We never work. We are great at not being together. We fight, and neither one of us is short on the ability to hold a grudge." Ross laughed at that. "And if you found someone who you love, who loves you and makes you happy, and your kids get along, and it works…."

"It's time to take us off the table," Ross finished in a whisper. Rachel nodded, again squeezing his hand. She leaned in, kissing his cheek, before standing up.

"What about you, Rach?"

Rachel brushed off his concern. "Don't worry about me. You know, for all of the time I've been alone, I don't think I've once been lonely," she smiled as he stood up. "Maybe I'm just too selfish to be in a relationship," she mused with a smile. "I want what I want."

Ross shook his head. "Doesn't make you selfish."

"Does make me a handful."

"No arguments here."

Rachel laughed. "Are we done fighting, at least?"

Ross nodded. "Yea. I'm kind of tired of fighting about the past few years…feels a bit belabored."

"Thank god!" Rachel exclaimed, Ross nudging her at that. "Shall we go eat?" she asked, motioning towards the door.

Ross nodded, placing his hand on her back as he reached for the doorknob. "Think we at least missed Chandler's Worst Thanksgiving Ever story yet?"

Rachel laughed. "Hopefully."

They both paused, smiling and laughing as they looked into each other's eyes, dragging the moment out.

It was Rachel who finally spoke. "Irregardless…we will always be Ross and Rachel."

"Regardless."

"What?"

"Regardless already means 'without regard.' There's no need for the prefix. It's just regardless."

"Why do you do that?"

Ross shook his head. "I don't know." They both paused. "Moment ruined?"

"A little bit, yea," Rachel nodded, now reaching to open the door.

"Rach," he reached out for her arm. "I know we are," he said softly, referring to her earlier sentiment.

"Irregardless?"

Ross laughed, shaking his head. "Irregardless."

Rachel nodded towards the door, wanting to end this moment on that note. "C'mon, let's go eat."

~.~

_And that, ladies and gentlemen, is it! Thank you very much to everyone who has read and reviewed! And, if it's not too much to ask, final reviews are very much appreciated, especially considering this was my first stab at the whole Ross/Rachel thing. This story has gotten an insane amount of hits/alert adds, so if some of you could let me know what you thought since you've come this far, I would be very grateful. :)_


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